Spaced Wired for sound and vision
by MrData
Summary: Tim gets cable TV. Now complete! Please review!
1. Chapter 1

Spaced – Wired for sound (and vision).

Chapter one : Sunday Afternoon.

It was another quiet Sunday afternoon at 23 Meteor Street. The flat on the first floor was, as usual, untidy.

Tim and Mike were sitting on the sofa, as usual, watching Tim's favourite video; 101 painful skateboard accidents. They winced every time someone on screen landed awkwardly on their genitals.

Daisy, as usual, was sitting at the kitchen table, her head resting on the keyboard of her typewriter. She was surrounded by women's magazines, trying to gain inspiration before she fell asleep.

Colin, as usual, was doing what dogs normally do when they have nothing better to do: he was chewing one of Daisy's favourite shoes.

"Hello people!" said a voice.

Tim and Mike looked around in perfect synchronicity. There, in the armchair by the window sat a thin man, barely taking up half of the seat. They cycle shorts he wore were probably two sizes too small, and looked like a second skin. Tyres O'Flaherty, Tim's cycle courier friend, smiled a wide, brown-toothed smile.

"Oh. Hi Tyres." Said Tim, looking around the flat. He'd never heard the door open, which was surprising as Daisy kept reminding him that it creaked and banged very loudly when Tim came home in the early hours from a club. Propped against the wall by the door rested Tyres' bike. Tim was certain that the saddle glinted like a sharp knife does in the sunlight. He winced at the thought of sitting on something so thin.

"Is that the only video you have!" asked Tyres.

"No." laughed Tim, looking back to the TV. There was a shelf next to the TV where he kept his videos. There was just the box on the shelf which read '101 painful skateboard accidents'. "Er, yes." He said, blushing.

Looking left and right, as if checking no one was listening, Tyres whispered "If you ask no questions, I can get you free cable TV."

"Can you? Really?" asked Tim.

"I said if you asked no questions!" snapped Tyres with a snarl. "Are you deaf of something?"

Daisy lifted her head, woken by Tyres' voice.

"Oh, hi Daisy!" said Tyres, his voice as serene as could be. "You look awful. Tim kept you awake all night, did he?"

"Well, there was all that banging last night when he got home from the club." Shrugged Daisy.

Tyres smiled at Tim and winked. "Dirty pair!" he said.

"It wasn't like that." Said Tim.

"Yeah, right." Said Tyres. "I'll tell you what. If you lend me a tenner I'll get my uncle Rob to come round later and install cable TV for you. It won't take him long. Just wire the cable in, install the box and before you know it…"

"Bob's your uncle, and we have cable TV!" said Tim.

"His name's Rob, not Bob!" Snapped Tyres. "Call him Bob and he'll kill you!"

"Sorry." Said Tim. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out a ten pound note. Handing it to Tyres, he looked down as he placed his wallet back in his pocket. When he lifted his head again, Tyres and his bike had gone.

A second later, there was a knock at the door.

Tim stood and crossed the room to open the door. Brian was standing in the hall.

"Hello Brian."

"Hello Tim. Can I borrow . . . a broom?" asked Brian.

"Yeah, sure." Said Tim, reaching into the cupboard by the door. He pulled out a broom and handed it to Brian. "Tidying up?" he smiled. "Have fun!"

"Tidying up?" said Brian, looking puzzled. "Yeah, that's right. Is it supposed to be fun?"

"Maybe. Sometimes." Said Tim, closing the door.

He went back to watch the rest of his one and only video.

Just as the video was finishing, the doorbell rang. Tim opened the door to greet a very large man.

Looking left and right to make sure no one else was listening, the man whispered "I'm Rob."

"The cable TV man?" asked Tim.

"Keep your voice down!" snapped Rob. "I'm not here for the good of my health mister! I'm just doing a favour for Tyres, that's all. Got some stuff to unload, you know?"

"Er, right." Said Tim. "Come on through."

Tim led Rob into the living room.

Rob stood in front of the TV, scratching his behind. The jeans he was wearing were slowly sliding down, revealing his hairy backside. Daisy put her hand over her mouth to stop herself being sick.

Rob couched and tutted loudly. "Have you really been watching this pile of junk?"

"What's wrong with it?" asked Tim.

"Well, it's about fifteen years out of date. Never mind. If you ask no questions, I've got some stuff in the back of the van I need to get rid of."

"Really?" asked Tim.

"I said don't ask questions!" Snapped Rob. "Don't ask where it comes from, OK? Not that it's hot or anything, you know?"

"Er, OK" said Tim sheepishly.

After half an hour of moving surprisingly quickly for a large man, Rob installed a new TV, DVD and cable TV box in the corner where the old TV had been.

"OK." Sad Rob, wiping a drop of sweat off his brow. "You have a 40 inch plasma TV, DVD recorder with Dolby 16.1 mutli-surround sound system with tower speakers and a cable box 6000 with, er, well, 6000 channel presets. You have a new modulator, de-modulator, amplifier, rectifier" (Tim and Mike sniggered to each other, but stopped after a stern look from Rob), "and an alternator."

"An alternator?" asked Tim.

"Yeah, I nicked that from the car of a guy I didn't like. You don't have a car, do you?"

"Er, no." replied Tim.

"Never mind. You can keep it anyway. Here's the remote control. You have several hundred channels to flick through." He handed the control to Mike, who was standing next to him.

Mike took the control and handed it to Tim. "You have the conn, Mr Bisley."

Tim looked at the control in his hand. He held it gently, as if it was a newborn baby. It hand more buttons on it than Daisy's typewriter.

"Here you have the main menu," said Rob, pointing at a button on the remote, "here's the music menu, the film menu, and the news menu."

"What's this button do?" asked Tim, pointing at a brown button.

"That's the takeaway menu." Said Rob.

Tim and Mike looked at each other and smiled. "Wow!" they said together.

"Well, my work here is done. I'll see myself out." Said Rob, gathering up his tools.

"I'd better be off too." Said Mike. "On manoeuvres tonight."

"Anywhere nice?" asked Tim.

"Sorry, my friend, can't tell you. Need to know basis."

"And you don't know yet?"

"Er, no." said Mike quietly.

After Mike and Rob left, Tim sat on the sofa and stared at the new TV. He pressed the large red button at the front of the remote and fell backwards with the blast of sound that came from the huge tower speakers on either side of the large screen.


	2. Chapter 2

Spaced – Wired for sound (and vision).

Chapter two : The morning after the night before.

Brian was feeling artistically productive this morning. He looked at the broom that he'd borrowed from Tim the day before. An idea formulated slowly in his head. He jumped out of bed, spreading the (mostly) white bed sheet on the floor and grabbed the broom. Kicking over a tin of paint, he dipped the broom in the red paint that spilled out over the floorboards. Then he stood poised, holding the broom like a harpoon ready to spike a whale.

Tim looked to his left and found the friendly face of Mike smiling back at him. Mike's face had the customary black boot polish stripes he always wore when they went paintballing. Tim felt the weight of the pistol in his hand. He scanned the woods for their enemy, his eyes half closing against the bright sunlight streaming through the trees high above him. He picked up some movement to his left and pointed. Mike nodded and they crept out of the bush they were hiding in.

Mike took the right flank and Tim crept round to the left. He could see their target now, cowering behind a tree. Tim and Mike stood up and advanced. Their prey could not get away now.

"Show yourself!" Tim shouted, raising his paint ball gun so he could use the sights to aim.

The figure slowly stood behind the tree and turned around to face Tim and his friend.

"Issa meesa gonna die?" he said, shaking.

"End of the line, Jar Jar." Tim said. He flipped the safety catch on his gun to 'off' and then realised the paintball gun had changed. He was now holding an Uzi 9mm semi-automatic pistol, one of Mike's top-ten favourite weapons. He looked over at Mike.

"Present from me." Mike smiled back.

Tim pointed the Uzi at Jar Jar's head, the barrel just inches from his forehead. "This is for spoiling a Star Wars film." He said through gritted teeth as his finger gently squeezed the trigger.

BANG!

Tim woke with a start. What was that noise? He opened his eyes to find himself stretched out on his sofa. The only light in the room was coming from a huge TV set in the corner. He lifted his hand to his face to rub his eyes and a shooting pain went through his back. He found he could hardly move, stiff from spending the night on the sofa. With extreme effort, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

He opened his eyes again to find a large image of Jar Jar Binks staring at him from the TV screen. "Aaargh!" he screamed. He looked around for the remote control. It was sat in the middle of the coffee table in front of the sofa. Time stretched his arm out and tried to reach it but his fingers were just inches away from it.

"Daisy!" He shouted. No reply. She must have gone shopping or something.

Tim thought. Then he had an idea. He closed his eyes, clenched his fists under his chin and concentrated hard. Then, keeping his eyes closed, he slowly stretched out his hand towards the remote control.

There was another loud bang and the coffee table jolted up two inches, flipping the remote control into the air. It landed, to Tim's surprise, right in his palm. Before the coffee table had landed back on the floor Tim had flicked the TV channel from 'Star Wars Movie Channel' to 'Painful looking skateboard accidents network'. Tim glanced around and felt depressed that no one was there to see his Jedi skills. He sighed and relaxed on the sofa.

Downstairs, Brian took another leap into the air, landing squarely in the middle of the sheet, swishing this way and that with the paint covered broom in his hands. Then he stood back to admire his work. In the middle of the messy, chaotic swirls of paint there was dust and small pieces of wood. His gaze drifted upwards to stare at the two large dents in the ceiling of his flat. "Oops." He said quietly.

Tim spent the day channel surfing. He found several interesting channels, including 'The zombie movie network', 'The Robot Wars channel', 'The TA channel' (which he was sure he saw a brief clip of Mike driving a tank on a program called 'when TA soldiers go bad!', and the Crufts Channel, at which Colin pricked his ears up and started barking loudly at the screen, so he quickly turned that off.

He was watching the Skateboard channel when Daisy returned home. She was carrying four bags of shopping, and was quite surprised to see Tim on the sofa.

"Tim, use the force." Daisy said. "And you smell like a Wookie."

Tim looked at her in a daze. His eyes were bloodshot and stung after staring at the TV. "What?" he said.

Daisy sighed. "I said, 'Tim you're life's a farce. Shouldn't you be selling comics at work?"

"Work?" repeated Tim. He thought for a moment, then picked up the phone.

On the high street, the phone rang at the Fantasy Bazaar comic shop. It rang twice before the answer machine beeped and played its message. "Thank you for calling the Fantasy Bazaar." Said Bilbo's voice from the machine's speaker. "We are not able to answer you're call at the moment due to the fact we don't have a phone. Please leave a message but do not expect a call back, as we have no phone, just the answering machine. Did I mention that already? Blast. Maybe I should record the message again. Tim! How do you work this thing?"

The machine beeped. "Hi Bilbo, its Tim. Sorry, but I can't get in to work today. Got a bad flu or something. See you tomorrow."

The machine beeped again as Tim put the phone down. Two seconds later, the phone rang again. Bilbo's message played once more, then another beep.

"Hi Tim, its Bilbo. Sorry, but I can't get in to work today. Got a bad flu or something. See you tomorrow."

Back at the flat on Meteor street, Tim turned back to the TV.

"I'm not sure we should have that thing." Said Daisy worriedly. "I don't think you should watch that much TV."

Tim flicked the channel over to 'The writers channel'. There was a program about curing writer's block. Daisy immediately sat down next to him on the sofa. "Well, maybe we'll keep it a short while."

She sniffed the air a couple of times and turned up her nose, looking at Tim.

"Er, I think I'll put the kettle on." She said, going to the kitchen area.

As soon as she'd flicked the switch on the kettle there was a knock at the door.

Looking at Tim, she sighed, realising he wasn't going to move from the sofa.

"I'll get it."

"Thanks" said Tim over his shoulder, trying not to take his eyes off the screen.

Brian smiled at Daisy as she opened the door. He handed her a very battered broom covered with dried paint.

"Brought your broom back." Said Brian.

"Oh. Thank you." Said Daisy, taking the broom but trying to hold it with her fingertips.

"Could I borrow some plaster?" asked Brian.

"Yeah, sure. I've got some in my bag."

Brian looked puzzled. Daisy went to the kitchen table and pulled out a small plaster from the little first aid kit she kept in her bag.

"Had an accident?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Where the damage?" Daisy asked, ready to put the plaster on Brian's finger.

"Downstairs." Replied Brian, looking down.

Daisy followed his gaze downwards and realised she was looking at the crotch of his scruffy jeans.

"Oh." She said.

"I think I might need something more than that." Brian said, pointing at the plaster in her hand.

"Oh. Size does matter then?" she smiled, trying to make a joke. She turned back to her bag on the kitchen table. "What happened?"

"I had some trouble with the broom. Made a couple of dents. Hit the ceiling."

"Well, I'm not surprised. You men are quite sensitive down there, aren't you?"

She handed him a larger plaster. Brian stared blankly at it.

Daisy waited a moment.

"Thank you." Said Brian slowly.

"You're welcome." Said Daisy, as if she were addressing a small child. "You're getting better at that, aren't you? See you later."

"Bye." Said Brian and walked slowly back to the staircase leading down to his basement flat.


	3. Chapter 3

Spaced - Wired for sound (and vision).

Chapter three : Here is the news.

Tim was still laid out on the sofa when Daisy returned home. "What you watching?" she asked Tim as she sat down in the armchair by the window.  
"Just looking through the channels" answered Tim, flicking from one channel to the next without even seeing what was on each. He got halfway through a block of news channels when something caught his eye. Lifting his thumb off the button, he slowly backed up until he found what he was looking for.  
On the screen was a young woman, mid-twenties, wearing a very expensive looking outfit. She was stood in a dark street in front of a large house. Tim sat up. The street on the screen was none other than Meteor Street, and the house was number 23! Jumping up, he ran to the window and stuck his head through the curtains. There in the street outside was a camera crew. Tim pulled his head back and looked at the TV. He was surprised to see his small head looking through the curtains of the ground floor flat window behind the woman. Puzzled, he slowly pulled the curtains, just to make sure there was no one else behind them, then looked back outside. Again, looking at the TV, he saw his face at the window, but he himself was away from the window. Puzzled, he slowly sat down on the sofa.  
Holding a microphone up to her mouth the woman on screen took a deep breath.  
"Hello, this is Twist Morgan. The theft of a dozen 40 inch plasma TV's last week has still got police baffled. The TV's, which are actually faulty, should not be used. If you have been offered one, or indeed have bought one of the Philony TV's, please contact the police immediately. They are prone to errors in the sound chips, emitting very loud noises which may damage hearing, the screen may flicker enough to trigger epileptic fits, and the units output more ultra violet light than the average sun bed. The police are offering a reward to anyone with information. This is Twist Morgan reporting for Camden Cable News"  
"Wow" said Tim.  
Daisy jumped out of her seat. "Did you hear that?" She shouted excitedly. "More UV than the average sun bed"  
"Where are you going?" Tim asked her as she began walking away.  
"To find my bikini! Can't let UV rays go to waste!" She disappeared into her bed room and returned a few moments later dressed in a white bikini that Tim was sure he'd seen in a James Bond movie. She settled back into her armchair and put on a pair of sunglasses.  
Trying not to look at Daisy's semi-naked body, turned his eyes back to the TV. Moments later there was a knock at the door. Realizing Daisy wasn't really dressed to answer it, Tim stood slowly and tried to walk across the room to the door, falling over twice on the way.  
"Hi Tim!" Smiled Twist from the doorstep. "Is Daisy at home? Got a present for her"  
"In the living room." Tim said, not even looking at her. He walked carefully back to his place on the sofa, trying to watch the screen and the floor at the same time so he didn't fall over again.  
"Hi Daisy!" Said Twist. "Did you see me on the television? I've got a new reporter's job"  
"Yes, we did see you!" said Daisy, trying to sound enthusiastic.  
"Here, I got you a present." Said Twist, handing her the sports bag she was carrying.  
"Wow!" Said Tim. "Is it full of used five pound notes or something"  
Daisy quickly unzipped the bag and peering inside. "No!" she said.  
"Balls!" said Tim sighing.  
"Yes! How did you guess?" Said Twist.  
"What"  
Daisy pulled put a handful of tennis balls from the bag.  
"Err, thank you!" She said to Twist.  
"You're welcome!" Smiled Twist. "I was doing this promotion the other day for the new sports centre in town, and they gave me the bag as a thank you gift. I thought you could take up tennis get rid of some of the weight you're showing off at the moment, so we could go shopping together"  
"Wow, that's really nice!" Said Daisy.  
"Yes," continued Twist. "I'm going to need lots of new outfits for my new job, and it would be good if we were the same size so you could buy my old clothes off me"  
"Oh." Sighed Daisy, her little fantasy of having a real friend to shop with suddenly shattered.  
Tim sniggered from the sofa.  
"What's so funny?" Twist demanded.  
"Err, something I just saw on our new TV." Tim said, thinking quickly.  
"Hey Tim, your computer game thing is off! Is there anything worong"  
"No, we're just watching the new TV"  
Twist followed his gaze and then jumped back. "Oh my god!" She cried. "You've got one of those televisions I was reporting on! Turn it off Tim! They're dangerous"  
"Ok, ok!" Said Tim, pressing the off button on the remote control. Nothing happened. "I can't turn it off"  
"Use the button on the front of the television!" said Twist.  
Tim slowly pushed himself off the sofa and moved towards the TV, but as he did so a loud electronic shriek came from the speakers, causing everyone to cover their ears in pain. Then the screen began a rapid flashing and blinking which hurt Tim's eyes.  
Twist and Daisy screamed and ran out the door. They stopped running when they reached the front lawn, at which point Daisy remembered that she was only wearing a bikini and screamed again, running back inside to her bedroom, where the noise from the TV was almost bearable.  
Tim, alone in the living room, thought his life was about to flash before his eyes. This is it! he thought. Suddenly he felt a hand grab his wrist and he was being dragged across the floor. Now his head was filled with clips from B-movies, where the innocent TV viewer was dragged kicking and screaming through the TV screen into an alternate reality, where he would be tormented forever.  
The hand holding his arm pulled and his hand came away from his ear just long enough to hear his name being shouted. Tim opened his eyes slowly to see the back of Daisy's arm chair. Twisting his torso to see who had dragged him across the floor, he was met by Mike's grinning face. 


	4. Chapter 4

Spaced - Wired for sound (and vision).

Chapter three : We're going in!

"Am I glad to see you!" Shouted Tim over the white noise coming from the TV set.  
"Video nasty, or what?" said Mike, nodding towards the TV.  
"Something like that! We need to turn it off"  
"Let me guess. Remote not working"  
"Yeah. Damn those cheap batteries"  
"So what's the plan"  
"You got your gun?" shouted Tim.  
"Never leave home without it!" laughed Mike, pulling a pistol from inside his jacket.  
"Can you shoot the TV"  
"No"  
"Why not?" asked Tim.  
"Tim, a soldier does not discharge his weapon in public"  
"We're not in public! Ever heard of the privacy of your own home"  
"No"  
Tim paused a moment, staring at his best friend.  
"Alright!" Mike said, sighing. "They . . . confiscated my ammo! It's a long story"  
"Ok, so we need to fall back on plan B"  
"Is that B for balls?" Asked Mike, opening the sports bag that Twist had given Daisy.

"Ok, here's the plan. You crawl over to the TV and press the off switch. I'll take out the surround sound speakers with the tennis balls"  
"That screen flickering is hurting my eyes. I'll have to do it blind. What about the tower speakers"  
"You worry about the flickers, I'll worry about the towers!" Said Mike.  
"Let's do it"  
Trying to keep his hands over his ears and his eyes shut tight, Tim tried to walk on his knees towards the TV.  
"Watch out for the coffee table!" Shouted Mike, launching a tennis ball at a speaker high in the corner of the room. The ball bounced off the front of the speaker, creating a shower of sparks. The noise from the TV was reduced a little. Tim, unable to hear Mike's warning, caught his crotch on the corner of the coffee table and fell onto his side.  
"Keep going Tim!" Mike shouted, taking out another wall speaker with a tennis ball.  
Tim slowly edged his way towards the TV, keeping one eye slightly open but not actually looking in the direction of the malfunctioning TV. He finally made it and stretched out a hand towards the switch to turn it off. At the same moment Mike threw another tennis ball. The ball missed it's target by a clear foot, bounced off the wall and hit Tim on the head.  
"Ouch!" he cried. "Stay on Target Mike"  
"Sorry!" Shouted Mike, throwing another ball at the tower speaker at the side of the TV. This ball also missed it's target and hit the DVD recorder underneath the TV. The DVD machine ejected it's disc, hitting Tim in the crotch with the disc tray. Tim collapsed onto the floor once again.  
Opening his eyes, he saw through his tears that his head was right next to the off switch! Taking his hand away from his ear, he prodded the switch and waited for silence, but it did not come. The TV kept on flashing wildly and making the loud screeching sound.  
Mike lobbed a couple more tennis balls and managed to knock over the two large tower speackers, the second of which narrowly missing Tim's head as it hit the carpet. The noise from the TV was reduced so they could at least talk to each other.  
"What now?" Tim asked.  
"Can you reach the socket behind it?" "Not without moving the TV"  
Mike smiled. "Time for plan C then"  
"Plan C?" said Tim, confused.  
"C. As in crash"  
As realization set in, it was Tim's turn to smile. They grabbed a corner of the flickering TV set and pulled hard. With a supreme effort the screen was wrenched off it's stand and fell forward, smashing on the corner of the coffee table. The lights went out and the room was thrown into darkness apart from a fews stray sparks from the broken TV set.  
"Is it safe yet?" Said Daisy peering out of her bedroom. She was still wearing her white bikini but had covered it up with a bathrobe, which was slightly open.  
"It's safe now." Said Mike. "But maybe I should have got here sooner!" He whispered to Tim over his shoulder.  
They picked up the TV and the smashed speakers and dumped them next to the dustbins outside. Just as they were walking back towards the door, Mike noticed something sitting behind the dustbins.  
"Hey Tim!" He called, pulling a dustbin out of the way. "Does this look familiar"  
"Our old TV!" Mike cried in excitment. "But it's been sat outside for almost a week! It can't possibly work now, can it"  
"Only one way to find out my friend! Get my toolbox from the van and ask Daisy if we can borrow a hairdrier. Not the black one, as it's not got the attachments. Ask if you can use her pink one"  
After dragging the old TV back into the living room and drying it off, Tim plugged it in and stepped back to what he thought might be a safe distance. Using an umbrella, he jabbed at the switch a couple of times and was rewarded with a little red light. He picked the remote off the coffee table, took a deep breath and pressed a channel button.  
A picture slowly appeared on the screen of a white shape, which became a police van. Some one was being pushed into the back of the van by six large policemen.  
"Hey - that's Tyre's uncle Rob"  
As they watched, Twist stepped in from the sidedof the screen and lifted a microphone to her mouth.  
"Once again, the theft of the stolen television sets has been solved. 'Uncle Rob' was arrested earlier today on suspicion of stealing the televisions from a lorry in the services of the M25. He also took the alternator out of the lorry to stop them chasing him. This is Twist Morgan reporting for Camden news"  
"All's well that ends well, eh Tim?" Said Mike as they sat on the sofa.  
"Yep!" Agreed Tim, flicking through the TV channels.  
The alternator stayed on the coffee table for a few days after that, then mysteriously disappeared to an unknown position in the flat and was never seen again.

The end. 


End file.
